


#FreeTheNipple

by lalaluma



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hanzo's tattoos are sentient, McHanzo if you squint - Freeform, Mild Language, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 23:37:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8820832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalaluma/pseuds/lalaluma
Summary: The dragons have never been fond of being kept under wraps.They are downright indignant about the suit shirt Hanzo has to wear for this mission.





	

As long as he could remember, Hanzo had never been a fan of shirts. He was often told stories of how if anyone took their eyes off of him for even a moment as a baby, he would wriggle out of his shirt and throw it. He always found them uncomfortable and constricting, especially if they had sleeves. Whenever Hanzo found himself in an unprofessional setting, he would shed the top half of his yukata so it hung loosely over the obi holding it in place. This was the cause for frequent scoldings about how he was setting a bad example for Genji.

 

Tunes changed once the dragons took up residence on Hanzo’s left arm.

 

Though now that the dragons lived over his chest and down his arm, he was also much more uncomfortable with shirts. They were almost always moving a little bit, but they got very squirmy and ansty when constricted or blinded by fabric. T-shirts and tank tops were usually tolerable, though the dragons behaved like restless children not ready to sleep as they adjusted to the clothing. He was most comfortable in his yukata, with either one or both sides down.

 

Unfortunately, that just was not a possibility for this mission.

 

The newest member of Overwatch, a hacker who joined seemingly exclusively for the entertainment value and to irritate Reaper, had uncovered a list of people making very large donations to Talon regularly. It was a thankfully very short list of only five donors, but still, they needed to make their way through it in short order. In fact, to prevent word from spreading, they had to off them all nearly simultaneously. That meant Overwatch was basically stretched to it’s limits, with all members on deck. 

 

Hanzo and Jesse were having a mock-date on the balcony of one of the nicer restaurants this city had to offer, one with an ideal view of the route their target would be escorted on in open air. Though the staff had been informed that the two men had rented all three tables on the balcony, and that they were only to be disturbed when absolutely necessary, they were unaware of the revolver tucked under Jesse’s arm, and the bow attached to the underside of the table. Though their waitress did seemed concerned about Hanzo, that was probably because she had heard the seam on his shirt pop after he had been pulling at it the entire time he was ordering.

 

“Darlin’, you’re gonna rip your sleeve right off if you keep that up.” McCree warned him gently. He trusted Hanzo more than he should, considering Jesse was the one who’s even temper more often than not kept Hanzo in line, but he also knew that working with a bow every day built up a lot of strength the archer was not always aware of.

 

“It’s fine,” Hanzo lied. Regular sleeves were a nuisance; the fitted sleeves of a button down shirt were torture. His whole arm was aflame and terribly itchy, the dragons throwing what could only be described as a hissy fit over the confines. Hanzo briefly considered that perhaps he had spoiled them and that's why they behaved this way. Genji didn’t seem to have as much trouble, and his armour was literally moulded to his body.

 

Apparently, Hanzo reached for his arm again, because suddenly Jesse’s heavy metal hand weighed his down. Though he knew it was for the best, the archer still felt as though he was being treated like a child, and shot McCree a look, but the gunslinger didn’t see it. He was looking elsewhere, and nodded with his chin to direct Hanzo’s attention there as well. It was the target, about two blocks down the street. He would need to turn a corner, and then he would be on the same street as them for about two more blocks before getting into a discreet car. It wasn’t a great window for an assassination, especially in the middle of the day on a busy street, and so Hanzo knew the squeeze of his hand was telling him to get ready.

 

As he was about to reach for his bow however, a young woman cleared her throat behind them.

 

“Your drinks?”

 

“Oh, thank you,” Hanzo murmured, slowly retracting his hand from McCree’s to accept his tea.

 

“If you wouldn’t mind darlin’,” Jesse asked sweetly, taking the coffee she handed him. “We’d like a bit of privacy while we discuss business.” 

 

Hanzo patted at the briefcase at his side, which contained their mission dossier and his arrows, to hint that what was inside was not something to be public knowledge. McCree gave her a charismatic grin, and a folded up credit. The archer couldn’t see the amount of the credit, but it must have been decent because she smiled back, politely excused herself, and closed the blinds to the balcony once inside. For not the first time, Hanzo envied Jesse’s charisma.

 

The target was on their street now, making his way to the car, security on him at four points, though one of them was on the side of Overwatch. Any moment now, a charge was set to go off that would distract the guards to the front, leaving him open to attack from the back. It was just for show, no real damage would be done by it. It was just going to be loud and release a cloud of smoke. 

 

Hana was their backup, and would stop the car should they get that far. Hanzo prepared his tracker arrow to fire the second the charge went off, so that there would be no losing them. That’s when Jamison came over the radio.

 

“There’s, uh, been a slight problem.”

 

“Talk to us, Jamie,” Jesse’s was simultaneously behind Hanzo and right in his ear, and it was slightly disorienting. “What’s going on? Where is the charge?”

 

“I, may have, theoretically, dropped it. I think a wire got knocked loose, because it’s not going off.” Junkrat laughed nervously, and they could hear him repeatedly clicking the detonator. Jesse swore, and their target was a mere 15 feet from the target.

 

“We actually have two problems,” Hana informed them less than cheerfully. “The leg of my Meeka is stuck on something. I might crash if I take off now.”

 

McCree cursed again. This was the first mission he was really in charge of, and it was going to shit fast. He had been working so hard for this, and Jack was skeptical as is, remembering how Jesse was as a young man. Hanzo steadied his breath. Between the problems with their mission and the burning sensation in his arm, focus did not come easily right now. The target was nearly there.

 

“Jesse,” Hanzo snapped, trading out his tracker arrow for a regular one. “Tell our guy to get out of there.”

 

The gunslinger paused for a moment, taking in the glowing of Hanzo’s arm and sharp arch of his bow, ready to strike. “...can you do this without hitting civilians?” There it was again. That blind trust Hanzo wished he understood.

 

“Yes,” though should he be wrong, Hanzo was planning on taking full responsibility. McCree made a quick, quiet call on another line, Jamison and Hana were both asking where to go from here, and the burning in Hanzo’s arm was stronger than ever.

 

“You’re set, do it.”

 

The second his fingers left the arrow, he felt instantly better. The anxious dragons were free for now, and gladly took a target over being stuck under the confining fabric of Hanzo’s shirt. They spiraled down towards their goal faster than usual, either sensing Hanzo’s urgency or feeling their own. No matter which was the case, they reached and eliminated the target and two of his body guards, while narrowly missing civilians.

 

It was all around a success, though Hanzo was not thrilled at the idea of having the dragons back on his arm. He was tense as he waiting for the itching to return, though after several moments he still felt fine. Had they been sated by blood?

 

Then he felt the breeze on his left arm.

 

In their anger and desire for freedom, the dragons had ripped right through his sleeve, leaving what remained of it in shreds dangling from his shoulder. Nearly half of the left side of his shirt had been blown apart, and the now free dragons settled with a smug look. Displeased did not begin to describe how Hanzo felt, especially since he could hear Jamison cackling and Hana shouting “You show ‘em, Hanzo! Free the nipple!”

 

“...Jesse?”

 

“Yeah, darlin’?”

 

“I require your jacket.”

**Author's Note:**

> "End my life, Jesse."  
> "Ha-ha! Yer a hoot."
> 
> The title is actually just the working title because I couldn't come up with a better one honestly.  
> I know I promised Junkrat/Zenyatta PWP as my next Overwatch fic but that's not done yet and this is sooo  
> Someday. I will finish it at some point.
> 
> I may add more to this. Like 500 to 1K more. Who knows.


End file.
